Smouldering Ashes
by Peachy Roses
Summary: Little one-shots such as Katniss embracing her creative side. Post-Mockingjay. Blissful fluffiness.
1. Painting Prim

I glance up in surprise. His long, curly eyelashes have aways fascinated me. I blush slightly, as Peeta's piercing blue eyes meet mine. I step away from my work. ''I like it,'' he says, as he slides his hand into mine, ''it looks just like her.'' I've been painting Prim. There are so many details about her that I don't ever want to forget. Sure, it hurts to remember, but I have Peeta to hold me, and tell me it's ok. Because it is ok.

I lean into Peeta's chest, resting my head against it. I thank him for the cheese buns that he dropped off at my house earlier. ''I ate them all.'' He smiles slightly. ''You must have been working hard.'' We step back and look at my painting. I've never been creative, or really had the time for it. But when I look at my painting, I can really see my little sister. With her arms around her goat, Lady, smiling as only Prim could. I have no nightmares that night, simply blissful rest with Peeta's warm body against mine.


	2. He Asks

I asked for the fifth time today. I'm sure if I can just get her in the perfect mood, she might agree. ''Katniss, do you ever want kids?'' I say, bluntly. She glances at me and stops smiling. I walk across the room and wrap my arms around her waist. She sighs, places down the bow she was making, and leans back on me. ''I love you, Peeta, but kids…'' her voice trails off a little, ''... I couldn't be a mother! I'm so broken and just wrong for it.''

''We're both broken, but we somehow manage,'' I say softly. Katniss scoffs, ''Yeah, a real miracle.'' I release her and she walks away. I try to bring it up at dinner, but she changes the subject every time I try.

Weeks pass, and the winter thaws ever so slowly. The colour that I thought would return to her face hasn't, and she's lost weight.

The Meadow had sprouted dandelions and all manner of weeds this spring. She watches them sway in the cool breeze, and her eyes flit back and forth with them. ''If you don't want kids, it's ok, Katniss.'' But it's not, and she knows it. She's felt the same hunger as me. I can tell by her eyes - the ones that once fascinated, and continue to fascinate me – that something's missing. ''Peeta.'' She turns to me and takes each of my hands in her small, thin ones. She whispers so quietly that I almost miss it, ''I want kids.''


	3. Pregnancy

He is so happy. His grin radiates like the sunshine, and it's infectious. I'm 3 months pregnant. And he tells me daily how beautiful I look. I smile because the way he shyly compliments me hasn't changed. I keep waiting for that moment when I regret all this, but it doesn't come. Peeta wants a child so bad, and so do I. I really do. Yes, I guess I'm going crazy. I never expected any of this. I remember how I once was. Never wanting a husband, children, or a family in general, besides Prim and my mother. Simply shutting people out.

Peeta likes to kneel down and talk to the baby. He will talk about how his day has been, and how excited he and I are to meet them. I was told that I'd be more emotional during my pregnancy, but I never expected my moods to be swinging as much as they are. Before I know it, I'm crying because I love him and the baby.

He has me encased in his arms, and I rest my head on his chest. ''This is beautiful,' I choke out, but he stops my words with his lips. Neither one of us wants to break away. We stand and hold each other. Peeta whispers quietly, ''I love you. Thank you, thank you for this.''


	4. Decoration

I always liked to paint. Whether it was the paint set at school, or the cakes at my family's bakery. The spare room is still empty, and the baby will need a room when he or she comes. Katniss is due early January, and it's November. So I ask Katniss about painting the spare room for the baby. She agrees, though warning me not to go overboard. This makes me smile. Because she has spent the last few weeks reading about parenting. This means a lot of trips to the library, one of the latest additions to District 12's town square. And being with child, she can't carry stacks of books, which leaves them for me.

We talk about colour schemes for our baby's bedroom. ''Green is a nice colour, isn't it?'' Katniss says casually, ''and it would go well with the curtains.'' ''The curtains that we haven't even purchased, Kat.'' I mainly disagree because I want to go for a warmer colour. ''Orange is warm enough.'' She gives me a playful glare, and I suggest yellow. Katniss has a smile around the sides of her lips, and grabs my hand. She drags me out the front door and down the street. There's a long strip of grass, and some dandelions. She scoops up a handful of the golden-headed flowers and explains. How their bright yellow colours are a symbol of hope and a future for her. How she thinks of me as her dandelion. How she thinks that yellow is perfect for the bedroom. I place my arm around her waist and we walk to the town square and purchase yellow paint.

I do up the bedroom the next day. Katniss rests. I paint and decorate the room happily. I even plant dandelions outside the window. I imagine our little baby waking up to a beautiful room like this. A little version of Katniss.

I show Katniss when she wakes up. ''Peeta, oh, it's wonderful! The dandelions are great.'' We embrace, and she admires the windows. ''I still think it needs a little green, though,'' she giggles.


	5. Baby's Born

**Inspiration song:** _Always_by _Switchfoot._**  
**

**_This is the star, this is your heart  
This is the day you were born  
This is the sun, these are your lungs  
This is the day you were born_**

**Peeta's POV:**

The nurse declares, ''Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Mellark, you have a baby girl!'' The cries of our little one – our little girl, our new baby girl – are loud and clear. I'm smiling, and I clutch Katniss' small rough hand. She's sweaty and tired, but she's never looked more beautiful. As she gazes down at our baby girl, tears roll down her cheeks. ''She's got your hair, Katniss. Your brown hair.''

''And your eyes, Peeta,'' she replies, ''your bright blue eyes.'' I look in wonder at her little features. ''Ten fingers, ten toes. Two eyes, one nose. She's perfect, Kat.''

The nurse leaves, but we hardly notice. We're getting to know our baby. ''Peeta, we need a name,'' says Katniss. She's right. We never actually decided on a name. There was one in particular that I liked: ''Willow.'' Katniss nods and agrees. She turns to our baby, and says gently, ''Hello Willow, I'm your mama, and this is your papa.'' Willow clearly has a strong set of lungs, because the cries that she lets out are unearthly. I smile and ask Katniss to sing for her. She nods OK.

Softly, oh so softly, she begins.

''Deep in the meadow, under the willow, a bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the daisies guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true. Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, a cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray. Forget your woes, and let your troubles lay, and when again it's morning, they'll wash away. Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the daisies guard you from every harm. Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true, here is the place where _I love you._''

I've always loved it when Katniss sings.

**(NOTE: I love reviews, peeps. XD)**


	6. NoteApologyThanks

Hello! I have no idea where I'm taking this; it was one-shots at first, but now I'm kind of following Peeta and Katniss' lives as new parents. It's kind of messed up, but I'll probably just skip to cute parts with their children etc. It should be fun.

Please bear with me, and thank you for your kind reviews, and for reading in general. Keep it up.

Thanks,

Rose


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